Ghosts of Yesterday
by LadySophieKitty
Summary: Lily can see ghosts. Lily becomes an Au Pair to James Potter's cousin Amy the summer before her 7th year when she sees Amy's brother-a ghost. Everyone thinks he was murdered but Lily, with the help of James, is convinced to find the truth.
1. Chapter 1

**Ghosts of Yesterday**

**Chapter One**

I remember exactly how it happened. That by itself is an oddity, as my memory is so bad sometimes I can barely remember what I had for dinner the night before.

I was five at the time. It was Petunia's birthday party, and everyone was fawning over her. I felt jealous. Usually I was the one everyone fawned over. I decided the best way to get attention would be to leave the room. Either someone would notice me and I would get scolded, or I would slip away unnoticed and eventually everyone would go looking for me.

Despite this, as a five year old I was extremely thoughtful. Where could I go that no one would think of looking for me? My room was definitely out. Whenever I pouted, that's the first place I went to. Mum knew that. I wandered around, hiding under beds or behind chairs, but no place seemed right.

And then as I was climbing up the stairs, it hit me. The attic. The room that I had always been too scared of going in to. But I was five now, and convinced I was too grown-up for things as silly and childish as fear of the attic.

So I climbed a little further, ignoring the fact that my legs were starting to ache. I stood up on my very tippy-toes to reach the handle of the trap-door that was the entrance to the attic, but it was no use. I had always been small for my age, and I still could not quite reach the trap-door.

I sat down on the step and pouted, something I seemed to be doing a lot of that day. Then suddenly the trap-door opened, sending down a ladder, which I climbed happily and entered the attic. I did not give a second thought as to what exactly opened it, even though it was definitely unordinary.

There were trunks all over the place, with spiders here and there. One trunk was open. I saw dolls, and gave a little delighted squeal. They were porcelain dolls, but I gave no thought to how fragile it was. I took one down, a girl with beautiful blond hair in a braid, blue eyes, and a long fancy dress, and began playing roughly with her, starting with taking down her perfect braid. I had no idea I was not alone until I heard a voice behind me.

"Careful with her. You do not want her to break now, do you?" I gave a tiny gasp and spun around. Behind me was an old lady, though she was not supposed to be old because her hair was not entirely grey yet, and old people are supposed to have grey hair. It was a very light brown with grey hairs here and there. I also noticed that she was not quite visible. I could almost see through her. I recognized her from some photos.

"Grandma? Aren't you supposed to be dead?" I blurted out. I did not even blush. I was at that age where I said everything and anything on my mind without thinking of the consequences. I did not even feel scared. After all, I was five years old, and five year olds believe anything and everything….even ghosts.

"Ah, so I was right, you are one of us!" Grandma murmured softly.

I was confused. "One of who?"

"Never you mind. I will tell you when you're older. Come, I will show you how to braid her hair and she will be back to normal." Grandma stayed until the doll's hair was even better than it was before, and then she ordered me to go back downstairs, but not before making me promise not to tell anyone. I obeyed, too happy to give a thought to my previous intentions or even the line that everyone always uses and I hate, "I'll tell you when you're older."

After that, I went up to the attic to visit Grandma whenever I had the chance, which wasn't very often. Mum and Dad were convinced that if I were left alone for very long, I would do something to injure myself. Usually I snuck away while Mummy was in the shower. Sometimes it was hard to not tell anyone what I've seen, especially when I could clearly see that Dad still missed her, but I promised, and I was convinced that if I told anyone, something horrible would happen to me, like my nose would grow like Pinocchio.

Grandma finally told me when I was ten. She was convinced I was old enough to know better than to tell anyone. Not that I would. It was a secret, a true secret unlike the pathetic ones at school, and if I told anyone, it would take the magic away. It wouldn't be special anymore.

"My great-great grandmother was a witch, and absolutely terrified of aging. She set out on a quest to find the Fountain of Youth, though many were sure it did not exist. When at last she found something, she took a sip, convinced she would stop aging right there and then. While it was not the Fountain of Youth, it was certainly magical, and now each generation there is a female (only a female) who can talk to ghosts."

I was enthralled. I knew I shouldn't believe in witches, but then again I wasn't supposed to talk to the dead either. The next year the letter informing me that I was a witch arrived. I was to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a school no one in my family has been to since the Fountain of Youth experience.

It was the night before I was to take the train to Hogwarts that it happened. It was late and I had been sleeping. Suddenly I felt someone shake me awake. It was Grandma. I'm not the best person to be around when I have just woken up, so I snapped at her. "What do you want Grandma? It better be important to have me woken up for this. I have a big day tomorrow."

"I know. That's why I made you this. It's for good luck." Grandma proudly held out her work. It was a chain with an image of a fairy on it. "The charm has been passed down to all the Ghost-seers in our family. Shortly before I died, I attached this to this chain for the next witch in the family. I was going to wait to give this to you, but I've decided that now was a better time." She fastened it around my neck.

"Thank you. Now go away so I can sleep." I snapped. I didn't stop to think of the power behind my words. The next morning I went up to the attic to big Grandma good-bye and to apologize for last night. She wasn't there.

"Grandma, where are you?" I called out. Maybe she was just pouting, though I doubted it. Grandma wasn't the pouting type. I called out her name over and over and over again until it was time to go, daring to hope that she was still there.

My name is Lily Nicole Evans, and it is my fault that Grandma is gone. Here, on the train to Hogwarts, I solemnly swear to never use my curse again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

I thought I had left all ghosts behind. I thought that if I pretended not to see they would eventually they would go away. Of course, using my five year old logic didn't work. For one, I couldn't stop thinking about them. As I learned more, I start having more questions about it, such as, wasn't it just the Spanish looking for it? Didn't witches and wizards know that it was just a way that all the Native American Indians tried to get rid of the Spanish? And did the witches and wizards get the diseases and such that killed off most of the Spanish? Then I would find myself wondering what Grandma's answer would be if she were still around and hating myself for letting something as silly as lack of sleep ruin my life. I was supposed to be intelligent!

For another, try as I might, I couldn't get myself to get rid of the fairy necklace. It was pretty much all I had left of her, and the one time I had thrown it away, it didn't work. As silly as it sounds, I felt empty without it, like a piece of my soul had been taken away. I only lasted about three hours before giving up and putting it back on.

And last, ghosts were very common at Hogwarts. Not my kind of ghosts though, the kind that everyone can see. This gave me another question. Why were there ghosts that everyone could see, and others that only I could see? Was it that, just like there are different races of people, there are different kinds of ghosts? I probably could have asked the ghosts why everyone could see them, but my start with the ghosts wasn't exactly the best.

It had all started on my first night at Hogwarts, at the beginning of the year feast. I was helping myself to a second handful of rosemary potatoes when a ghost came up next to me.

'Oh no,' I thought to myself, inwardly panicking, 'I must be some sort of magnet! Just keep eating, and take a deep breath. Maybe he isn't for me after all, and if he sees I can't hear him, he'll go away.'

"Hello and welcome to Hogwarts! May I ask what your name is?" He directed towards me. I could feel a blush coming up on my cheeks and I had to hold back a groan. I took a huge bite of rosemary potatoes, hoping he would get the message. However, as though he had a special secret censor (and who knows? I thought to myself, maybe he does) he patiently waited until I was done chewing and had swallowed. I shook my head, willing it to go away.

"Miss?" I gave no answer.

"Humph. People these days. That's the response I get for trying to be polite." he muttered under his breath and, without a further word, stalked angrily out of the hall.

A girl sitting next to me, a second year with dark brown hair split into two pony-tails, leaned over. "Why didn't you answer Nearly Headless Nick?"

I nearly fell out of my chair.

"You can see him too?" I asked, my green eyes wide with surprise.

"Of course I can! And you hurt his feelings! Nearly Headless Nick can really hold a grudge, you know." And he did. From then on he avoided me as much as possible, and when he was forced to speak to me, it was in a quick and impatient tone. But I was fine with that, especially since he wasn't the violent type. A grudge I could stand, danger I couldn't.

It was the last day of sixth year, and I was at platform nine and three quarters saying goodbye to my two dearest friends, Caroline Jenkins and Heather Brown.

"Promise you'll write to me every day!" Heather was saying, clutching my arm tightly. I rolled my eyes. Heather was always over-dramatic, but it was one of the reasons I loved her so much. Caroline was more quiet, but she was also very sarcastic and she could make me roll on the floor, hysterical with laughter within seconds. She was also the one I went to whenever I had a non Ghost-seeing problem. Despite how close I was with them, I still kept my promise to Grandma and kept it all a secret.

Besides, why would I risk my friendship on them not believing me? I had enough problems without having to add "no friends" to the list.

"I don't have an owl, remember, Heather?" We went through this practically every year. It was some sort of a tradition, and now it seemed like bad luck not to do it.

"Oh." Heather looked downcast for a moment and then brightened up. "You can borrow Annie's owl," Annie was her older sister, "I'm sure she wouldn't mind if it meant I stayed sane."

I noticed Mum and Dad walking towards me, arm in arm. I gave Caroline and Heather quick side hugs and, pulling my trunks along, walked towards them,

"Darling, how good it is to see you." Mum said, kissing the air next to each of my cheeks before giving a tiny laugh and both she and Dad gave me a bone crushing hug at the same time. It was an on going joke of my mother's to pretend to be a proper British lady. In fact, it was one of the things I missed most about her when I was away at Hogwarts.

Usually, I spend a week thrilled to be home and satisfied at catching up on things before I become terribly terribly bored and find myself some sort of hobby or goal. Last year I had been horrified at how my room seemed like a guest room with how empty it was, so I had spent the summer redecorating my room. The year before that it had been helping the poor and reading to the blind, and the year before that I had spent the summer writing in an authorly (if that even was a word or made any sense) fashion. (Meaning staying at a cafe all day, drinking cup after cup of coffee, or in my case hot chocolate, and observing everyone around me like a spy.)

This year, so far I was quite uncertain as to what I should do. So I did what I usually did when I was uncertain about something: I sat at my desk in my oldest and most comfortable pajamas sipping hot chocolate and doodling, humming a tune under my breath. I was in the middle of doodling a pumpkin when a thought came to me. I was almost a seventh year, and once I graduated from Hogwarts I was on my own. I had practically no money, just some to buy textbooks and other materials with. How was I supposed to support myself? What I needed was a job. Preferably not a muggle job, but a job from the Wizarding World. It was possible to change pounds to galleons, but it was a hassle, so I was going to make it as easy on myself as possible. Besides, I didn't want to accidentally say something about my world. Way too risky.

But what work was there for someone who hadn't graduated yet? And how would I find a job? I had practically no connections to the Wizarding World, and most of the ones I did have I couldn't use or wouldn't dare to. I was fairly sure that just as much as I would want to get an owl from them, they would want to get one from me.

Suddenly, another idea popped into my head, but unfortunately I would have to wait for that one.

Two days later, Annie's owl Korithus (she liked making up names) arrived at last, carrying a letter from Heather. It was mostly complaining about how bored she felt, how there was practically nothing to do and she wished that she could visit me or me her, and asking what my ideas for an activity this year so that she could in. And please let it be something that would attract a lot of cute guys. The last part was a joke. Heather had once been told she was very popular (though we all doubt it) and ever since Heather liked to act how most popular people were seen as acting. Part of that was drooling after guys even though, as far as we knew, Heather wasn't interested in boys at all.

I wrote a response, telling her the few things that had happened in my life, and I also asked her if she would be so kind as to send me a Daily Prophet in her next letter so that I could find a job, which was my new Hobby. I let Korithus the owl eat and drink and rest for a good amount of time before sending her off again. I stared at the night sky where the bird was starting to disappear from site, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for the Daily Prophet to arrive.

&&&

The owl arrived a few days later. I was slurping some chicken noodle soup (even though Mum was scolding me about slurping and it is rather childish) when I heard a 'tap tap tap' on the window. The noise as well as the source of the noise made Dad jump up and Mum give a tiny scream.

"Don't worry Mum and Dad; it's just an owl from Heather." I grimaced as I got out of my chair. Most of the time when I received owls, I got them in my room. Though they were very supportive of the fact that I was a witch, I knew that our world still kind of scared them, so I tried to have them have as little as possible to do with my world. I grabbed the letter and its carrier and ran up to my room. I would heat it up and eat later. Right now, I had way more important things to do then eat.

Despite my earlier worries about not being able to find a job because I hadn't graduated/had NEWTS yet, it didn't take me very long to find a possible candidate for a job. This was what the ad said:

_WANTED: One live-in helping hand to care for a young girl, age 5. Contact Mrs. Chapman by owl for more details or to apply. Requirements: must be 16 or older, must be good with children and care for them, and must be fairly flexible. Must bring black formal clothes. _

Hey, I could do this. Never mind the fact that I had never babysat kids before, but it couldn't be that hard, right? And I was that age once, even if it had been twelve years ago. I sat down to write out my reply. I mean, it's not like it'd be the end of the world if I took a live-in job…

In fact, I was so confident that I would get the job and I would like it, that I packed my trunks right then and there after sending off the owl once more.

&&&

I did, in fact, get the job. Now was the harder part, telling Mum and Dad. Because of my over-confidence, I didn't even have packing to put it off. Still, I waited as long as possible. I counted tiles on the wall; I counted books, neatened up my room until even a person with an obsessive-compulsive disorder about neatness would have been satisfied. I did everything I could think of until, at last, there was nothing else to do. So I did another tactic that every kid does at least once in their lifetime: I sucked up to them.

First I sat at the table, even going as far as folding the napkins into bird shapes. (Four years ago my summer hobby had been learning origami, and even now I was fairly good at it. Mostly because people were always asking me to make shapes for them.)

After that I told Mum and Dad that I would be cooking dinner (another thing I had learned four years ago, as origami hadn't taken up enough of my time.) Mum hated cooking and was rather bad at it so Dad was the one who did most of it. The rest of the time, Petunia and I had to figure it out and make it ourselves.

Tonight, I decided to go with something fairly simple. I didn't want to go too overboard or else they would expect more of me. Now that wouldn't be good. One nice thing about being gone practically the entire year was that Mum and Dad's expectations of me were fairly low. I decided on toasting tortillas and making toppings for a put-it-together-yourself burrito.

At last, it was dinner time. I waited until everyone had finished eating (just in case it didn't work out very well, I wanted to have a full stomach before stomping out of the room) and Dad was drinking his evening coffee to finally bring it up.

"Mum, Dad, I have something I want to talk to you about." I began, crossing my fingers under the table for good luck.

"Ahh, so that's what all this was for. I was wondering about that. The day a teenager does anything around the house without expecting something in return is the day the world ends." Dad said, taking a sip of his coffee. I guess I was more obvious then I thought, but no matter. Though I did make a mental note to myself to do something around the house for no reason one day to see what Dad's response would be.

"Well, you know how I'm going to be graduating from Hogwarts soon? I need some way to support myself after I graduate, during the time when I'm looking for a job and, when I find one, waiting for the paycheck. So," Here I took a deep breath, "I applied for a job a few weeks ago. And I got it."

"That's wonderful, honey! I'm so proud of how responsible you are. What are the hours?"

"Er, it's a live in job." Suddenly the smile that was on Mum's face disappeared.

"No, absolutely not. I only get to see you a few times a year, and now I don't even get that? Find a new job."

Here was the trickier part. Most people say red-heads have fiery tempers, and maybe that's true, maybe it isn't. I, however, am fairly good at keeping calm. Not that I never shouted or screamed or snapped at someone, but usually I could hold myself back. Right now, if I stomped my foot saying something like, "This isn't fair! I'm almost an adult, and I HATE you!" my parents wouldn't budge a bit. What I had to do was stay calm and rational and insult free, and present myself in a way that would change their mind. Plus, this method grows respect for me, which is useful in the long run.

"It is very important to me to have this job. And I looked and looked for other options, but this was the only one I found that I could do. Besides, I'll come home for Christmas this year, I promise." Most holidays I spent with Caroline or Heather, but usually Caroline. And okay, so I had only looked in one issue of the Daily Prophet for a job, but hey, it counted, right?

Mum sighed sadly. "Well, if you put it like that, I suppose... But remember that you have to come home for Christmas, or next time you ask for something big like this..." And, just because I knew it would make him angry and possibly affect the overall decision if I didn't do this, I looked to Dad to see what he would say about this, but he just gave a little nod and said, "I agree with your mother."

"YES! Thank you, Mum! Thank you, Dad!" I jumped out of my chair and gave each of them a hug and a kiss before running off to share the good news with Caroline and Heather.

&&&

The next day at precisely two o'clock, I apparated where I had been directed to go in the letter. I had always been taught that being on time to everything (early was okay in some circumstances but in most cases, it wasn't good in case things weren't prepared for you yet or the people weren't expecting you. And it is pretty self-explanatory why being late is bad.) and while I didn't always follow it, I knew it was important to make as good of an impression as possible on my employer.

The place I apparated to was near Amy Chapman's, the little girl I was the Au Pair to (I know most people here in England call it nanny, but I like au pair better. Makes me feel more educated, and WAY more fun to say.), house. Apparently the Chapmans had made it so that people couldn't apparate in the house, and I didn't have floo powder, so that option was out. And apparently a lot of houses were this way, as this area had a special area for apparating people, just like a train station does for people traveling that way.

I had just gotten to the point where I was considering taking out a book and read, despite the fact that I had wanted to save my books with me being such a fast reader and all, when someone finally arrived. Amy's mother, I assumed. The lady was very beautiful. She was tall and had long blonde hair, and hazel eyes. And, surprisingly enough, instead of the Wizard robes I was expecting for her to wear, she was wearing ordinary clothes. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at me with a smile. I liked her right away, and felt that I had made the right decision.

"Lily Evans, I presume?" She said. I gave a nod in confirmation, and, finally showing some sign of being a witch, she took out her wand and shrank my trunks to a size where it was easy to pick them up. We each grabbed one and walked to her house in silence. At last, when we arrived, I stared at it for a moment.

It had a simple white paint job, with simple grey roof tiles, but you knew from its sheer size that it was not merely something simple. The inside also had a lot of expensive things in it, and was very full, but despite all this, it wasn't like most full-of-expensive-things houses. It was still somehow cozy and comfortable and well, homey. Again, I felt like I had made the right decision, and that, if the little girl was as nice as everything else had been so far, I was going to have a wonderful summer.

It was just that, as I was going up the stairs with the lady to my third-floor bedroom that I realized that my summer wasn't going to be so great after all. And that the woman wasn't really Mrs. Chapman. I knew it was too good to be true, especially considering my luck. Because coming down the stairs, asking when dinner was going to be ready, was none other than James Potter.


	3. Chapter 3

It didn't really hit me right away. I just sort of stared at them, stunned into silence.

"You're the nanny, Lily?" James asked, his hazel eyes wide, though he smirked at the last two words, since it made me sound like an old lady. He looked like Christmas had come early this year. As much as I hate that phrase, it described him perfectly.

"Oh, you know each other? Good. Maybe my worries of you scaring her away with your pranks and mischief won't come true after all." The person who I realized must be Mrs. Potter said, the relief in her voice being obvious. Not that I blamed her. Going to school with James for the past six years made me wary of him too, and I didn't have to be exposed to him his whole life! Though to be fair, she didn't have to deal with him the entire year. Still, it was enough for me to pity her. Suddenly, something came to me, and no matter how rude it might sound I just had to voice it. Though I didn't really care about how good of an impression I made anymore, now that I knew whose mother Mrs. Potter was.

"Erm, Mrs. Potter-" Here she interrupted me to tell me to call her Elaine, "Elaine, if you are Mrs. Potter, then why is Amy Chapman staying here?" The minute it came out of my mouth, I regretted it, because the expression on Elaine's face looked as if she had just eaten something sour. Suddenly, I remembered something. On the letter, it had instructed me to bring formal black clothing. Did that mean what I thought it did? Foot, meet my mouth.

"You know what? Forget I asked." I said quickly.

"Right. Your room is on the third floor, fourth to the left." Apparently, Elaine was no longer up to showing me to my room. She did, however, flash me a smile (though it was a sad one) so I knew she didn't hate me.

I jumped up the stairs two at a time until I got to my room. As I opened the door, my mouth dropped open at the sight that greeted me. The first impression it gave was of old-fashioned glamour. The second impression was the color blue.

Wrapped in aged blue floral wallpaper, the room was rather small and square, with two windows, one larger than the other. I walked in, a hand running along the wall as I paced the room to the larger window, which was flanked by a desk and rocking chair covered in white and blue fabric.

Outside my window was a different world than anything I'd ever seen. A small expanse of trees led right up to a crystal clear pond that had several pool elements, like inflatable rafts and a metal-framework table with matching chairs, on its banks.

I tore myself away from the view and sat down in the rocking chair, facing into my blue, blue room. Barely five feet from my outstretched legs was a funny little wooden stool, topped with a blue cushion, which stood at the foot of a four-poster bed. Blue curtains hung from the corners, and a bed skirt that was the same color blue as the curtains covered the dark wood of the bed frame. Off to the side, just on the edge of my sight line, a tall wardrobe with mirrors engraved into the doors dominated the wall farthest from my door. I sighed, relaxing more into the plush exterior of the rocking chair. I quickly shed my flip-fops and buried my toes in the thick Oriental rug that covered that half of the room. I didn't know why I felt the desire to paint my room yellow before - the blue theme was so comforting. And relaxing.

In most cases by now I would have jumped on the bed by now, but it was too pretty to destroy, and I was quite comfortable where I was. Now I had some serious thinking to do.

What should I do? Should I quit my job? As soon as I thought that (In my head, of course. I only thought out loud when I was absolutely desperate. Living with people most of the time did that to you, you know?) I quickly shook my head 'no.' I was never one to quit a good challenge (and dealing with James was a challenge), Mrs. Potter depended on me, and she had just been so nice to me so far, as this room proved. Far nicer than I deserved. Besides, I still needed the money and I had to admit it gave me a small amount of pleasure thinking I was taking the money that could be spent on James. You could even say that I was taking his money. Thus proving that I wasn't deserving of such nice treatment.

'I'm going to definitely keep this job then. Maybe if I stay civil to him, he will behave.' I thought, finally gathering the courage to pounce on the bed.

Who was I kidding? This was James Potter I was talking about. Behave definitely wasn't his middle name. Trouble was more like it. Which figures, seeing as trouble follows me no matter where I go.

&&&

Fortunately I had enough time to take a quick nap before dinner. Though I wasn't usually one for naps, today I was especially exhausted. Since dealing with an energetic little kid and James Potter needed a lot of energy, it was probably for the better. I had just woken up when there was a tap on the door of my room.

"Come in!" I called as I leaped out of my covers. Elaine entered the room, surprising me a bit because I had been expecting a house-elf. From the way Potter had bragged about it, you'd think that he had a million.

"It's dinnertime. Amy will be there so you can meet her." She said, smiling at me. In my sleepy haze I had to remind myself that Amy was the girl I was being paid to watch.

"Okay, I'll be down there in a minute." I wouldn't spend an hour getting ready (which I never did anyway. What a waste of time) or even change for dinner, but I'd run a comb through my hair and straighten out the clothes I had foolishly slept in. It was important to look at least somewhat organized, but I also didn't want to encourage Potter's feelings any more than I had to. He probably would think I dressed up just for him. When my hair didn't look like birds could live there anymore and my clothes were somewhat straightened, I took one last glance at the mirror and then leaped out the door. As I mentioned before, I hated being late for anything.

I got there just as Potter did. I hoped that with his mother and small cousin around, he wouldn't do anything too stupid. But then, men are unpredictable idiots, so who knows? When he opened his mouth to speak, my stomach clenched a bit. _'Please Merlin, don't let him say anything that will embarrass me.'_

"So, ah, Lily. What do you usually do during the summer? Or do you always work?"

Only he could make a simple question like that seem like a mixture between an insult and an odd version of a pick up line.

"I usually like to find some sort of hobby to occupy my time." I didn't mention anything about needing money. I had always been taught that it was bad taste to discuss money with your employers. Other than requesting raises, that is, and it usually isn't a good idea to ask for one before you've even started working.

"What kind of hobbies?" Elaine asked, sounding genuinely interested.

"Oh, all sorts. Writing, arts and crafts, stuff like that." I took a bite of the food that had just arrived (chicken pot pie and steaming hot rolls of bread with butter) hoping that having my mouth full would keep them from questioning for a while.

"That sounds fascinating. You're a writer? I used to write. Poetry mostly, but that was a long time ago. I wasn't very good, I'm afraid," Elaine looked almost wistful for a minute. "Ah, here's Amy."

I looked up, and I saw a little girl with blonde hair in a braid that barely went past her shoulders and a pink and purple striped dress. The end of her braid had a ribbon at the end of it, and she was clutching her doll as if the world would end if she let go of it. Her brown eyes were wide and looked as if she had suffered greatly and was forced to grow up way before her time. I didn't know what caused her such grief, but my heart immediately warmed towards her. Perhaps later when she knew me better I could give her a hug. For now, I settled with a warm smile. "Why hello there," I said, and winced as the "little kid" voice that adults often used slipped out. I always hated that voice when I was younger and had vowed to myself I would never use it. So much for that.

"This is your new friend, Amy. She's all for you! Her name's Lily, just like the flower." Elaine said, giving Amy a kiss on the cheek.

"Hi," Amy whispered shyly, looking down at her feet.

"What's your doll's name?" I asked.

"Charlotte. She's five years old," Amy announced proudly.

"Five? Wow!" I exclaimed. Yes, that vow was officially out the door. Fortunately, I was saved from humiliating myself anymore when a man entered the room. He came over to Elaine and whispered something in her ear, something that caused all of the color in her face to drain away.

"Does it have to be now?" She whispered harshly. The man nodded and Elaine reluctantly got up.

"I'll be home as soon as I can. Lily, when you're done, maybe you could play with Amy in the nursery?"

I nodded to her and, with a loud sigh, Elaine left.

Since little kids are supposed to be good at detecting tones, I tried to keep my voice civil and low as I addressed James. I didn't want to upset Amy. "Look Potter, I honestly don't have the energy or effort right now to deal with you. I have enough of it at school and since we're living in the same house, I suggest a truce. You'll leave me alone, I'll leave you alone. That means no flirting, no bothering me, nothing like that. Deal?" I told him. I felt kind of bad for bringing it up since he was looking a little worried, but I figured it was best to talk about it now.

"Fine, whatever. Deal. But you should call me James. You're in the Potter house, it seems funny of you to call me James. When we're back to school, you can go back to hating me and calling me Potter," he said a bit bitterly. He stood up to leave.

I don't know what made me say it. Maybe it was how serious and worried he looked, maybe my nap had caused me to have some sort of brain damage. Whatever it was, I called after him, "I don't hate you, you know."

His slight pause was the only sign that he had heard me, but he continued walking out of the room


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

You know how when you're little and don't want to do something, you hide under the covers and pretend that if you can't see anyone, then no one can see you, too?

I felt so very tempted to run back into my room and hide my face under the covers. I was worn out from my conversation with James (not to mention the very tense dinner) and I knew that there was something being hidden from me. I got the feeling that I was in way over my head. Unfortunately, being an (almost) adult and all, I couldn't hide. Too many responsibilities and all.

I gave a big sigh and entered the room.

* * *

It seems to me that no matter how much I learn about magic, there is always something else to learn that makes me feel like I know nothing. I'm sure it feels like this for everyone, but at least people with magic in their families have been surrounded by it their whole lives.

Amy's nursery gave me that feeling. It was obvious that it was very temporary and hastily put together, but even then it was one of the best ones I'd ever seen. Filled with moving trains, beautiful mobiles, pictures that told nursery rhymes when you asked them to, and more. The walls were painted black with shining stars all over them, but, knowing the wizarding world, I'm sure that changed during the day to a bright blue sky, big puffy clouds, and a shining sun. I have to admit, I was jealous. Where was this nursery when I was a kid?

But what stood out the most was Amy. Or rather, what was next to Amy: a ghost of a little boy. I could tell because of how white he seemed, and also how Amy seemed to ignore him as she continued playing with her doll. Poor thing, he looked like he couldn't have been older than three.

I chose to ignore him and focus on my task at hand.

"What are you doing?" I asked Amy.

"Getting Charlotte ready for a ball. There's a prince there, so she has to look her best," she informed me, not looking up from brushing the doll's hair. It seemed to me that five was much too young to be impressing a prince at a ball, but hey, her imagination.

"Who else is going to be there? Will you be there? Will I?" I asked, wondering if I'd have to dress up too. Fortunately Amy shook her head. "No! You're going to be the prince," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, how about for now I'll help Charlotte get ready? I can be the prince later," I offered. She nodded her approval, and that was how I found myself looking through Charlotte's wardrobe for the perfect dress.

For a while, things stayed that way. I had just started telling myself that everything was going to be okay (a mistake, because everyone knows that once you start telling yourself that, nothing goes right) when it happened. The little ghost boy started crying. Annoying, yes, but manageable. Or, at least, it was until Amy started crying too. I'd heard that little children are near each other, if one starts crying, sometimes it leads to the other ones crying as well. However, I'd never seen or heard of the same thing being true when one child was dead and the other was alive. I'm sure I would have found that fascinating if it weren't for the fact that I was the one who had to deal with it.

What to do, deal with the living, or deal with the dead? I chose the living, scooping Amy (and Charlotte in her pretty pink ball gown) into my arms and stroked her hair, murmuring comforting words. Honestly, I had no idea what I was doing, but it seemed to be working, and another idea came to me. "Tell me a story," I begged one of the paintings, and tucked Amy into bed while we both listened intently. The story distracted her to where she forgot about her tears.

Not bad for a beginner, eh?

I waited until she fell asleep, then crept outside while I thought about what I needed to do. First thing's first, I decided, I needed to know who that boy was and the story behind him. I could try talking to him, but it's doubtful that, at that young, he could tell me.

What I needed to do was talk to James. I sighed as I thought about how the safety of my bed would have to wait a little bit longer.

**A/N- I got a review asking if I got the idea for this story from The Ghost Whisperer. Actually, no! I'd never even heard of the show when I started writing this. I got the idea from Meg Cabot's "The Mediator" series. This ended up being a much shorter update than I was expecting, but I've got some ideas. Seeing as how it's October, seems like the right time to be really focusing on this story ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"You should know, Evans, that I don't think Mum would approve of any midnight trysts in my room," were James's first words to me when he opened his bedroom door. It was very tempting to turn around and walk away (unless I had a sign that said "Please! Sexually harass me!" written on my back. Now that I thought about it, it could be written on my front too. I looked down, but there was no sign), but I needed something from him. I gritted my teeth and gave him my best, "Shame on you!" look.

"Right, right. The deal. But you're the one who was knocking on my door," James replied.

"I need to ask you something," I said, "about Amy."

James's expression grew darker. "Fine, come in," he said, opening his door wider. I gulped and entered, making sure to keep away from the bed. Although I doubt he'd try anything, I'd rather avoid any "Lily was in my bed this summer!" comments. Can't make it too easy on the boy, after all.

"What do you want to know?" he asked me as he stood across from me. He offered me one of the chocolate frogs sitting on the table, but I declined. James shrugged before taking one for himself.

"There's something not quite right here. What happened?" I said.

"I don't know what you mean," James replied, "We're just taking Amy in for the summer."

I sighed. This wasn't working. What should I do? Make a move on him? Tell the truth? James Potter was definitely not on the list of people I would tell. And yet, somehow, it seemed like the right thing to do, even if he did think me mad. I probably was mad for telling him.

"I can see ghosts," I told him. It was amazing how those four words could be packed with so many emotions.

"Hate to break it to you, Lily, but everyone at Hogwarts can. Remember Nearly Headless Nick?" James said, giving me a weird look.

He wasn't going to make this easy for me, was he?

"Yes, you can see ghosts. You can see the ones that are supposed to be seen. I can see all ghosts," I explained. He gave me a long look before answering, "Okay."

Okay? "Wait, that's it? You believe me?" I asked incredulously. Actually, forget what I'd said before. This was ridiculously easy, considering I was thinking that it would take me ages to convince him.

"I've caused enough mischief to tell when someone is being genuine. At the very least, you definitely believe you can see ghosts," he said. Okay, so not quite convinced yet. But still, it was a lot of progress. Maybe later I'd tell him about the fountain of ghosts, as I'd started calling it.

"Tonight, while I was playing with Amy, I noticed the ghost of a little boy behind her," I continue.

"Merlin, you can see ghosts," he breathed, "how else would you have known about Alex?"

"What happened to him? Alex?" I asked.

"He was Amy's brother. He was murdered by Death Eaters," James said, still looking at me a bit dazed. Which was annoying, let me tell you. He was looking at me like this ability made me not human.

"No," I said, startling us both. I hadn't meant to let that slip out of my mouth, I wasn't even aware I'd been thinking it. And yet, the second it came out of my mouth, I knew it to be true. "Something else must have happened."

"Did he tell you that?"

"Of course not," I waved my hand through the air as if I was dismissing that notion. "He can't really talk yet, and I'm no seer or mind reader. I've just seen a lot of ghosts." I decided not to tell him that for most of those ghosts, I'd pretended I couldn't see them. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Most of my family is out there right now trying to find who did this to him. Are you saying I should tell them to stop because of your abilities?" he asked, pacing around. Although his words might have sounded rude, they weren't, really. I could tell that he was just stressed out and confused. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually pitied him.

"No. I'm saying that you should keep an open mind while I figure out what happened to him. Let me help, James," I pleaded him.

"We," James said.

"Hmm?"

"You said 'let me help,' but I want to be a part of this, too. He's my cousin, after all," he reminded me.

It must have been the pity that made me say the next words. "Alright. But we'll start tomorrow. I need to go to bed," I said as I started walking towards his door. "Night, James," I said before closing the door.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.


End file.
